
1 



Book 


Copyright N°_L3 l3J2l_ 


CQKOUGHT DKPtiSm 
























HEARTS OF GOLD 

AND OTHER POEMS 


BY 

Mary Rolofson Gamble 

\\ 



Published for the Author 
by 

The Manual Arts Press 
Peoria, Illinois 









75 3SIS 
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Copyright, 1923 
Mary Rolofson Gamblh 


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MAR -8 '24 

©C1A777468 


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INSCRIPTION 

If in this little book you find 
Goodwill and love and cheer, 

They but reflect the heart and mind 
Of one who holds you dear. 


M 



CONTENTS 


Inscription. 3 

I— FLOWER FANCIES 

Hearts of Gold. 9 

Forget-me-not. 11 

The Message of the Lily. 12 

Witch of the Meadow. 14 

Harebell, Happy Harebell. 15 

Wood Violet. 16 

Love-in-a-mist. 17 

Dandelions. 18 

It’s Lovetime, Sweetheart. 20 

Bluebell. 21 

The Mangled Rose. 23 

Bleeding Heart. 24 

The Cherokee Rose. 25 

Nature. 26 

II— ON THE BEACH 

The Sailing Craft. 29 

Lovers. 30 

Answering Tides. 11 

A Picture of Life. 32 

Summer Clouds. 35 

Cloud-king, Come. 36 

The Moon Bridge. 38 

The River. 30 

A Handclasp, a Kiss, a Goodby. 40 

III —MEMORIES AND MU SINGS 

The World of Memory. 43 

The Heart O’ Me. 45 

Fairy Moonlight. 40 

A Field of Wheat on Harvest Day. 48 






























CONTENTS 


A Challenge. 49 

Autumn’s Housekeeping. 51 

Ode to the Nineteenth Century. 54 

The Vanished Song. 57 

Love Is—?. 58 

For a Friend’s Calendar.. 59 

For the New Year. 59 

If I?. 60 

A Prince is Born. 61 

The Journey of Faith. 63 

The Autumn Angel. 65 

It’s All on Account of the Sunshine. 66 

Earth and Heaven. 67 

What Life has a Morrow?. 68 

Second Childhood. 69 

Swing Low, Swing High!. 71 

For a Friend’s Album. 72 

Who Told the Fairies?. 72 

The Departed Year. 73 

The Earth Angels. 74 

America. 76 

Peace. 77 

Where Heaven Begins!. 78 

Heaven, Home and Mother. 79 

God Knows. 80 
























/ 


I 


FLOWER FANCIES 




HEARTS OF GOLD 

There’s a lonely spot where I love to go, 

Out where the shallow waters flow 

At the edge of the lake. So, with noiseless oar, 

I steer my boat to the beckoning shore 
And come to rest in a strange, sweet place 
Bewitched by the smiles and exquisite grace 
Of the lovely forms, flitting round my oar, 
Whispering welcomes in fairy lore. 

They laugh and nod and curtsy low; 

I cannot tell why they move me so. 

Their pearl-white garments, I know, enfold 
Hearts of the richest, purest gold. 

They revel in sunshine all the day 
And at eventide their heads they lay 
On a crooning wave and sweetly rest, 

Rocked on the lakelet’s mothering breast. 

I go, when the sunset light is dim, 

To catch the strains of their bed-time hymn. 

Not all its tones can I understand, 

For Fairies’ language was wisely planned 
So nature may never to man reveal 
The mysteries nature’s God would conceal— 
Though I’m sure that deep in their hearts of gold 
Is a wish that life’s meaning they might unfold. 







10 


Hearts of Gold 


So I listen, with mind and heart intent, 

To their beautiful voices sweetly blent; 

And my soul interprets their lullabies 
As they gently close their sleepy eyes. 

And these are the words I hear them say : 
“We have lived a life of trust today; 

The task God gave at the rise of sun 
In faith and love we have cheerfully done; 

No selfish purpose, no envious thought, 

Has into the plan of our life been wrought. 

We have given our all, our hearts of gold, 
That earth more beauty and joy may hold; 
And our life of trust makes the promise clear, 
That love, pure love, casts out all fear.” 

And this is the story they sweetly told; * 
Those lilies fair with the hearts of gold. 

I glide away in my little boat; 

Each dip of the oar brings back a note 
Of the lilies’ song, and my soul is thrilled 
With the message which all the silence filled. 
“A life of trust,” “Love casts out fear 
And fills the earth with happiest cheer.” 
Surely that message I understand 
Though the language was framed in fairyland. 

And thus I come to the moon-lit shore, 
Conning the lesson o’er and o’er, 

Striving in faith and love to say: 

“The best I have I will give each day 
That all who hear my good-night song 
May happier be as they pass along.” 

And earth more beauty and joy will hold 
When I give it each day my heart of gold. 


Hearts op Gold 


11 


FORGET-ME-NOT 

Once an angel came from heaven just to name earths 
flowers, 

Tenderly she oped the gate of Eden’s woodland 
bowers. 

Roses, daisies, daffodils, named she one by one, 

Pansies, hearts-ease, buttercups, soon her task 
seemed done. 

Poising for her upward flight, e’er to heaven she sped, 

A floweret blue as summer’s sky, peeped from mossy 
bed. 

“Dainty, modest, pure of heart, earth-born, glory- 
crowned,” 

Said the angel bending low, o’er the velvet mound, 

“Pretty blossom, I’ve no name sweet enough for thee, 

But to bear aloft thy wish shall my mission be.” 

“Angel,” said the radiant flower, “nameless be my 
lot, 

I’m content if only thou, in heaven, Forget-me Not!” 


12 


Hearts of Gold 


THE MESSAGE OF THE LILY 

Stealing round me calm and stately. 
In the shadowy twilight hour, 

Came the fairies and the fancies, 

To the entrance of a bower, 

Which the daytime calls a fable— 

Ah, the daytime cannot build 
Halls enchanted like the palace 
Which the moon with glory gilds! 

Oft before these sprites had led me, 
To their home invisible. 

Where surmises and surprises, 
Indescribable e’er dwell. 

They had shown me countless visions, 
Kept my fancy’s torch alight, 
Through so many scenes bewildering, 
That I wondered if I might— 

In their castles, beauty haunted, 

Some new witchery behold! 

Yes, but by its radiance dazzled, 

How can I the tale unfold? 

Why did not the fairies touch me, 
With the mystic wand of power, 

So I might the story paint you, 

Of that evening in their bower? 

Close beside me came a Presence, 
Gowned in robes of creamy white, 
Every fold reflected rubies, 

On its brow a diamond bright. 

Rarest fragrance filled the palace. 

As though mines of rich perfume, 

Had unfolded all their treasures, 

In that strange, mysterious room! 


Hearts of Gold 


13 


I could catch no sound of footfall, 

Yet the Presence came anear! 

Not the sweep of velvet garments, 
Through the doorway could I hear— 
But I felt the magic influence. 

Of a power enthroned above; 

Ah, that Presence was a message. 

From a heart that spoke of love. 

Yes, that Presence was your lily! 

Love had given it the power, 

To unfold the thought you gave it. 
When you sent it to my bower. 
Hallowed bower to memory sacred, 

To the precious thoughts of those 
Who have helped us bear the burdens 
Of earth’s sometimes bitter woes. 

Yes, it told the story simply. 

Precious story, told it well. 

When the fairies (call them memories), 
Brought me ’neath their magic spell. 
Even now the fragrance lingers, 

Of that Presence in my room. 

And the message of the lily. 

Yields a lasting, rich perfume. 


14 


Hearts of Gold 


WITCH OF THE MEADOW 

There’s a witch in the meadow, I’ve hunted all over. 
But never have found her, shy four-leaved clover! 
She can tell—how entrancing—if lovers are true! 
Though distance may part them, she has them in 
view! 

All the other gay fairies came trooping around me; 
Wild columbines, dancing because they had found 
me; 

Sweet buttercups gave me a drink from their chalice. 
But, witch of the meadow, where, where is your 
palace? 

My heart holds a secret I’d whisper to you; 

0, fairy witch, tell me, please tell me it’s true; 

I’ll whisper it softly, now fairy, believe me, 

It’s so heavenly sweet, if untrue it will grieve me. 

He says I’m the first one, he ever called “dear,” 
Or kissed in the moonlight; he’s lying, I fear! 

He’s a wonderful person, this lover so bold. 

But, if he’s loved others, can I his love hold? 

0 witch, come and tell me; Love oft is a rover, 
Is mine staunch and true, fairy four-leaved clover? 
Ah, here she is standing, just where I would tread. 
And smiles a sweet answer. Thanks, witch, we will 
wed! 


Hearts of Gold 


15 


HAREBELL, HAPPY HAREBELL 

On your stem so lightly swaying, 

Every gentle breeze obeying; 

In your heart no envy dwelling 
Sweet content your bosom swelling; 
Harebell, happy harebell! 

All the woodland flowers love you; 

All the stars gleam bright above you, 

For you smile so very sweetly, 

You have won them all completely; 
Harebell, happy harebell! 

Say, would you leave them for a palace? 
No, my heart will hold no malice, 

If you choose the woodland flowers, 
Rather than my gilded bowers; 

Harebell, happy harebell! 

Ah, you say your homeland’s better! 
Palace would your spirit fetter, 

And the elfin band would miss you, 
When in dreams they come to kiss you; 
Harebell, happy harebell! 

So, I’ll leave you lightly swaying, 

Every gentle breeze obeying, 

With your friends, the birds and flowers; 
O, that I in wooded bowers— 

Harebell, happy harebell— 

Might forget the cares distressing, 

On my heart so sorely pressing; 

Ah, I envy you the pleasures, 

Only found in woodland treasures; 
Harebell, happy harebell! 


1# 


Hearts op Gold 


WOOD VIOLET 

Tell me, wood violet, what of your home, 

In the wildwood’s restful shade? 

Are there crystal grottoes near, where roam 
Fair nymphs of the dewy glade? 

Are there haunted castles in your domain, 
Where wandering elfins meet, 

And whisper low of the crime and pain, 

Which mar earth’s fair retreat? 

And have you a temple with dome of blue, 

And steeples all ivy twined, 

Where worship is ever like heaven, true, 

Of love and service combined? 

And do heaven’s own minstrels sometimes 
throng, 

The nave of that temple fair, 

And weave into music earth’s long lost song, 
Where lingers no note of care? 

Does a woodland goddess for you distill, 

Honey dew in lavish store? 

And where does she hide the magic mill, 

From which her libations pour? 

Do the stars ever tell you what they do, 
Through all the long summer days? 

Like them you’re a bit of the sky so blue— 
Why blush at a word of praise? 

O, violet, tell me the secret, please, 

Of life in your quiet glade, 

I would give it to hearts that long for ease; 
Hearts sick for your wildwood shade! 


Hearts of Gold 


17 


LOVE-IN-A-MIST 

Love-in-a-mist of doubt was lost; 

The wildwood paths were all criss-crossed; 

This way or that? O, where was she? 

And which path led to the trysting tree? 

A green elf whispered right in her ear, 

“Are you sure your lover is quite sincere? 

Lovers are seldom what they seem, 

And love itself is a haunting dream.” 

But a little blind god lived in the wood; 

Unseen, unheard in the path he stood; 

A feather, dropped from an angel’s wing, 

With speed he placed in his magic sling! 

Straight into the heart of the maid it flew! 

Faith lived, doubt vanished, the world was new. 
Heaven’s glory marked the path to her tryst. 
And never again was Love-in-a-mist. 


18 


Hearts of Gold 


DANDELIONS 

Captured? Yes, I’m fairly caught; 
Really, I never thought 
To be taken prisoner here 
Where no sound of war is near! 

Yester eve I strolled this way 
Chirping crickets seemed to say, 
“Meadow land is free as air, 

Tread its courts without a care.” 

But this morning meadow land, 

Is a camp where sentries stand 
Uniformed in cloth of gold; 

Whose battle-flags are wide unrolled; 
Whose every sword has diamond blade; 
Whose ranks unbroken, undismayed, 
From golden shields a menace throw, 

As did the knights of long ago. 

Whence came this army? Would I knew. 
No haunted castle is in view, 

Where fairy prince could swift command, 
This yellow-coated, well-trained band! 
’Tis a tale of strange renown: 

Yes, the meadow bars were down, 

My love and I were searching late, 
Four-leaved clovers by the gate. 

Then we studied long the stars, 

Quite forgot to close the bars. 

But this army never came, 

Through the bars or down the lane, 

For the evening hours were mute, 

Not a sound of drum or flute! 

And not a footprint can be seen, 

On the sward of emerald green! 


Hearts of Gold 


19 


So, unwittingly this morn, 

Nay, I heard no bugle horn; 

I hurried through the meadow gate, 

And lo, am captured, cruel fate; 

Bayonets fixed on every side, 

Forbid escape, and hopes deride; 
Unarmed I tremble in the gleam, 

Of spears reflecting dawn’s first beam. 

Bewildered! Yes, me thought I heard, 
“Bewitched,” ah, that’s a better word. 

A child at play upon the green. 

Whirls round, till like a fairy scene, 

The enchanted landscape circling flies, 
And blent are hues of earth and skies. 

So, dazed and spellbound here I stand, 
W 7 hile round me flies the dazzling band— 

Whose battle-flags are wide unrolled, 

And earth and sky are seas of gold. 

O, who can break the magic spell? 

Doth not some meadow-witch near dwell, 
Or knight, who’ll storm the iron gate. 
And rescue me from frowning fate! 

“Ho, ho, you’re dreaming! Up! Arise! 
“Dandelions!” Bless my eyes! 


20 


Hearts op Gold 


IT’S LOVETIME, SWEETHEART 

It’s lovetime, when Springtime in musical rhymes 
On streamlet and wind-harp rings magical chimes. 
When bird-song and flower-song reveal nature’s art, 
It’s lovetime, Sweetheart! 

It’s lovetime, in Springtime when daisies won’t tell, 
When robins hear secrets where love fairies dwell; 
When hearts are united which time cannot part, 

It’s lovetime, Sweetheart! 

It’s lovetime, when star-shine gilds meadows with gold. 
When jasmine and rosebud their fragrance unfold; 
When earth is an Eden to love set apart, 

It’s lovetime, Sweetheart! 


Hearts of Gold 


*1 


BLUEBELL 

Bluebell, bluebell, tinkling sweet, 

As of yore my senses greet; 

In thy music lies a spell, 

Tinkle softly, fair bluebell. 

Thou and I art here alone, 

Strike again that far-off tone, 

Which seems to come from faded years, 
Long buried ’neath a weight of tears. 

Magic bluebell, ah, that chime, 

Silvery, careless, pure, sublime! 

Ne’er again I thought to be, 

Enchanted by such minstrelsy. 

Days of toil have sung their song, 

Selfish monotones of wrong; 

Discordant pain hath tuned her lyre, 

Oft, seated by my midnight fire. 

Bluebell, bluebell, ring again, 

Soft and clear that peaceful strain; 

Slowly—let me catch each tone; 

O’er the woodland thou hast thrown 
Voiceless rhythmics, soundless song, 
Which echo through the dells along, 
Where she and I in childhood’s hours, 
Searched for thee in hidden bowers. 

Bluebell, hast thou quite forgot 
How—’t was on this very spot, 

She smiled and whispered, “Bluebell, ring, 
Chimes in honor of my king.” 

“Hark” she said, “it answers me, 

The air is full of melody.” 

Bluebell, ring again that chime, 

Silvery, careless, pure, sublime! 


22 


Hearts of Gold 


Bluebell, say, I never knew, 

Was she false or was she true? 

Something came our lives between, 
Something vanished like a dream; 

Love’s broken harp lies yet unstrung, 
That chime began is yet unrung; 
Bluebell, can’st thou bridge the years, 
Long buried ’neath the weight of tears— 

And strike again the severed chord, 
Whose silence all my life has marred? 
And if she heard would she delay 
To meet me in the dell today? 

Was I her king? I never knew, 

Bluebell, was she false or true? 

If true, then gently let me hear, 

That long-lost love note, sweet and clear 

Ah, bluebell, thou answerest me, 

The air is full of melody! 

Chimes of joy pervade the dell, 

Dost thou mock me, fair bluebell? 

W 7 hat witchery is this? She’s here, 
Whispering sweetly in my ear: 

“Thou hast ever been my king.” 
Wedding chimes, O bluebell, ring! 


Hearts of Gold 


23 


THE MANGLED ROSE 

Under the hedge, hoof-beaten, scorned, 
Carelessly tossed by an idle hand, 

It is lying low, a pitiless wreck, 

Soon to be tombed by drifting sands; 

Its petals crushed e’er yet full blown. 

Its marvelous fragrance lost to earth; 
Forgotten; yet o’er the heathery moor, 

There float wild songs of riotous mirth! 

Ah, my eyes were false! ’Twas a human rose, 
Carelessly tossed by a trifler’s hand. 

Under the hedge of scorn and hate, 

Soon to be tombed by drifting sand. 

Mangled with heart-wounds, crushed by shame, 
Its marvelous fragrance lost to earth; 

Cruel! and yet the trifler’s voice. 

Is singing wild songs of riotous mirth! 

Sequel. 

At the edge of the world, where hope lay dead, 
In the fathomless pit of black despair, 

He crouches, transfixed by a ghastly dread 
And a backward look he never will dare; 

For, close behind, is the wraith of a soul, 
Bleeding from arrows his bow has hurled! 

Ah, he is paying the Devil’s toll, 

Flayed by remorse at the edge of the world! 


24 


Hearts of Gold 


BLEEDING HEART 

Love lies bleeding in my heart, 
Pierced by many a poisoned dart, 
Wounded, spurned, yet living on, 
Hope and joy and peace all gone. 
But love lives, it never dies! 

In my heart it bleeding lies! 

Love lies bleeding; once I thought, 
Only joy by love was wrought, 

All I gave, but lips of guile, 
Answered to another’s smile. 

Then I felt the stinging dart; 

Love lies bleeding in my heart. 

Love lies bleeding, overthrown. 
Stifled, crushed, I hear its moan; 
Haggard, breathless, fever tossed, 
More than death its pain has cost. 
Pierced by many a poisoned dart, 
Love lies bleeding in my heart. 

Strange that love must live alway! 
Fain I’d bury mine today, 

Tear its image from my brain, 

Kill the cruel torturing pain. 

But alas, love never dies, 

In my heart it bleeding lies. 


Hearts of Gold 


25 


THE CHEROKEE ROSE 

There’s a quaint, old town on our Southern shore, 
Which the poets love for its mystical lore, 

For its tales of the past when years were young, 
Its legends like beads in a rosary strung, 

Songs sweet as the perfumed wind that blows, 
Kissing the cheek of the Cherokee rose. 

In the forest back of the sail-flecked bay, 

Stand great, live oaks wreathed in mosses gray, 
And the deep, dark woods were a lonely place 
If, on hillside and valley we could not trace 
The path which ever with love-light glows. 

In the star-bright eyes of the Cherokee rose! 

All along this quaint town’s sandy beach, 

There are stately palms which heavenward reach: 
Magnolias breathe on the salt sea air, 

Their exquisite fragrance all may share; 

And over the landscape rich beauty flows, 

From the radiant bloom of the Cherokee rose. 

They tell me a tale of the olden days, 

When a pious monk was lost in the maze 
Of the trackless wild; strength, courage, gone, 
Famished, he waits for the light of dawn, 

When lo, o’er his path a soft beam glows, 

On a pearl-white cross—the Cherokee rose! 

It beckons, advances. He hastens near; 

The darkness, the danger, the gloom disappear; 
For many a mile he follows his guide, 

Well knowing that evil cannot betide. 

Until home at last, rejoicing he knows, 

He was saved from death by the Cherokee rose! 


Hearts of Gold 


26 


This quaint, old town on our Southern shore, 
Which poets love for its mystical lore— 

I love best for its warmth and cheer, 

For its summery days, so bright and clear; 

And on its borders there are no snows, 

Save the petals that fall from the Cherokee rose 


NATURE 

Nature is a great magician, 

But she guards her secrets well, 

How she deftly mixes colors, 

She will never, never tell; 

Silver moon and golden meadow, 
Purple aster, crimson rose, 

Grasses green which turn to yellow, 
How she paints them no one knows. 

Massive rock built ipto mountains, 
Sparkling with the choicest gems. 
Diamonds hidden in the caverns, 

Fit for kingly diadems; 

No one ever drew a landscape, 
Gorgeous as the sunset sky; 

Peaceful is the shaded valley, 

Where the cool stream hurries by. 

When she turns her thoughts to music. 
Nightingales burst forth in song, 
Mockingbirds trill heavenly measures, 
Thrush and lark rich notes prolong. 

Nature’s magic none can fathom, 
Earth and air and sea and sky, 

Smile and frown as she directs them— 
And we know not how nor why. 


II 

ON THE BEACH 






















I saw a craft go sailing by, 

The sea was rough, the wind a gale; 

Black as a tempest was the sky; 

I wondered if the tattered sail 
Would hold, or would the storm prevail? 

I knew the goal it sought to reach, 

The isle reflecting golden gleams; 

I knew that on its wave-washed beach, 
Were countless wrecks of fairy dreams; 
Mocked by the moon’s unfeeling beams. 

A murderous fog came stealing on, 

It caught the vessel in its grasp; 

I watched no more, my hope was gone! 
Could Fate that giant’s grip unclasp? 

I could do naught but faintly gasp. 

But lo, a star beam filtered through— 

The depths of space, clouds slunk away; 
The vanquished fog dissolved like dew, 

I saw the craft with pennants gay, 

Glide on across a placid bay! 


29 








30 


Hearts op Gold 


Incredible! I stood amazed: 

A miracle was swift unrolled; 

The isle of dreams with glory blazed, 
The vessel safely reached the goal; 
Transfigured, ’t was a human soul! 


LOVERS 

My mountain lake mirrors the sky, 

Its blue, its gold and its gray; 

They are lovers I know, the stars say so, 
Their moods are alike alway! 

Thy soul is the sunlit sky. 

And mine is the sun-kissed sea, 

We are lovers I know, my heart says so, 
Thy soul is mirrored in me! 

O, the sea and the sky are one, 
Love-ruled by night and day; 

So my Love and I, in joy reply, 

We are one, we are one alway! 


Hearts of Gold 


31 


ANSWERING TIDES 

The tide flows out from the clinging shore, 

Nor turns though the warning breakers roar; 
Though worlds entreat, it will not delay, 

For an answering tide is on the way, 

And it eagerly scans the ocean wide, 

For a first, fond glimpse of that answering tide— 
As it comes with stately, vigorous sweep, 

From the unseen shore of the mighty deep. 

No wrathful tempest can hurl it back, 

No blinding gloom can obscure its track, 

And the east-bound tide, and the tide from the 
west, 

In a love-clasp meet on the ocean’s crest. 

My love flows out like the trusting tide. 

To an answering love which heaven doth guide; 
Though gulfs of despair, and billows of fear, 

And treacherous shoals of doubt appear, 

Though earth-spirits shout the danger call, 

No voice, no power can ever appall, 

For I know that across life’s narrowing sea, 

That answering love is beckoning me! 

So, clouds may promise a hurricane bold, 

Or the sunset tinge the waves with gold— 

What matter? Love’s tides will never rest, 

Till blent in one on life’s hallowed crest! 

My faith, like a tide on the sea of time. 

Seeks an answering Faith from eternity’s rime. 
Earth-voices plead, “In the Real abide, 

Nor trust thy soul to a phantom guide.” 

But faith is Reality, mirrored clear, 

In love and hope that have cast out fear. 

My faith in God, and God’s faith in me, 

In that sweet hour when sea meets sea— 


32 


Hearts of Gold 


Will surely blend, I shall feel no doubt, 
Though death comes in, as the tide goes out, 
For death is only life’s heaven-touched crest, 
Where answered faith finds eternal rest. 


A PICTURE OF LIFE 

The sea we love is blue today 
With glint of silver on its spray, 

Because the sky above is bright, 

With azure glow and sunbeam’s light. 

On yester eve’t was shot with gold, 

And all the hues the rainbows hold. 

Because the sky in sweet content, 

These gorgeous colors freely blent— 

In rich mosaics, laid on earth, 

A bit of heaven to show its worth. 

Lovers enchanted with its charm, 

Sailed far from shore without alarm; 

And, thrilled with wonder, passers by 
In reverence said, “The Lord is nigh, 

For never hand of man could trace, 

Such beauty on the water’s face.” 

And once the sea was stern and gray, 

No gleam of silver on its spray; 

Its white-capped waves more restless grew. 
And many a brave and gallant crew 
Brought fishing smacks and sailboats in. 
Fighting the billows strong and grim. 

A dismal fog like sheeted ghost, 

With outstretched arms embraced the coast, 
And all because the sky that day, 

Had changed its blue and gold to gray! 


Hearts of Gold 


33 


Again, the sea like ink was black; 

Launches raced madly o’er its track; 

Its fury lashed the frenzied waves, 

The sea-nymphs sought their hidden caves, 
The quivering shore cried out in pain, 

And thunders shook the frightened main— 
And all because the sky was black, 

And held cowed nature on the rack 
Of torture, while its darts were hurled 
In vengeance on a startled world. 

O sad the day when storms arise, 

And darkness fills the vaulted skies, 

For sky and sea, as face to face, 

With tears or frowns, or smiling grace— 
Each other greet; but ah, the sky, 

Ne’er wanders from its purpose high, 

And as it wills, the gray, the blue, 

The black, the gold come into view, 

And sea reflects with wondrous skill, 

The sky’s imperious, royal will! 

This is the picture of a life: 

Its blue, its gold, its gray, its strife,— 

Are but reflections of the soul, 

Which heaven ordained should life control. 
The soul, the spirit is the sky, 

And life beneath must mirrored lie, 

A perfect image of the thought, 

Which in the life the soul has wrought, 
And all is black or gold or gray, 

Just as the soul has marked the way. 

When passion sweeps the spirit’s sky, 

Then life in wreckage low must lie. 

When fogs of doubt and fear prevail, 

Life, rudderless before the gale. 

Must feel the terror of the shock. 


34 


Hearts of Gold 


When foundered on a treacherous rock! 

But when the soul is strong and true, 

All life is glorified anew. 

Strength to achieve, the power to win, 

Bring golden gleams of light within, 

And hope sets sail with fearless oar, 

To meet success on placid shore, 

Where perfect peace and trust abide, 

And silvery gleams flash on the tide. 

O, soul of mine, with courage bold, 

To noblest purpose ever hold! 

Thy faith alone can make me brave, 

On rocky shore or restless wave. 

Thy faith alone can lift my life, 

Above the billows torn with strife! 

Keep thou the sunshine of God’s love 
In view, so I may look above, 

The darkest cloud, and see the glow, 

Of Hope, which those who trust, may know. 
Then storms will leave no blighting trace, 
Upon the mirror’s shining face, 

And life itself be glorified, 

Reflecting heaven upon its tide! 


Hearts of Gold 


35 


SUMMER CLOUDS 

The summer clouds go sailing by, 

Like silver ships across the sky, 

Or, stretching out like furrowed plain, 

Or white-capped billows on the main! 

What matters how their course we view, 

If now and then the blue peeps through? 

Sometimes they rise like mountains bold, 
Peak after peak all tinged with gold; 
Sometimes they frown, sometimes are gray, 
Sometimes bring darkness while it’s day; 
What matters when we know it’s true, 

The azure’ll soon come peeping through? 

For well we know the sky is there. 

Above the clouds all bright and fair; 

The silver ship and furrowed plain, 

And mountain peak and billowy main— 
Will pass—but skies are firm and true, 

The azure’ll soon come peeping through! 

So, clouds must come into each life, 

Some silver-tinged, some gray with strife, 
But God’s rich mercy like the sky, 

Broods over all as years go by, 

And, many be the clouds or few, 

God’s love is always peeping through! 


36 


Hearts of Gold 


CLOUD-KING, COME! 

(In time of drought) 

Cloud-king, come from thy billowy home, 

Thou tarriest long ’neath the ocean’s foam; 

Art thou building castles under the sea? 

Have the white-capped billows captured thee? 

Do isles enchanted obstruct thy way? 

Or the fathomless sea hold thee a prey? 

Have sirens won thee with magical song, 

And mermaids bound thee, O, cloud-king strong? 

O, vapory cloud-king, come from the sea, 

Each dying floweret pleads with thee. 

Raindrop pearls fill all thy caves, 

Glistening diamonds crest thy waves; 

Our homeland mountains are full of gold, 

Their sun-kissed towers rich treasures hold, 

But give us rain and nature will sing, 

Alleluiahs of praise to thee, O king! 

O vanished king, we watch in vain, 

Our hearts like a lover’s, grow sick with pain. 

On the beach of withered hopes we stand, 

While sunbeams hiss on the melting sand; 

While blazing meadow, and stifling town, 

Gaze blanched and fearful on cornfields brown. 
May we not hear thy clarion ring? 

Come back, we pray thee, O vanished king! 

O king of the Mist, shut out this glare. 

Would heaven the sky were not so fair! 

Wilt thou not build thy nimbus strong, 

With battlements high and broad and long, 

From river and streamlet, gulf and lake, 

Thy vapor forces freely take, 

Use now the power at thy command, 

To bless with rain our thirsty land? 


Hearts of Gold 


37 


Then mighty king, send thy lightnings out, 
With thunderous roar to call and shout, 

To gather for action thy wandering host. 

In air and sky, let none be lost! 

Then open thy windows and flood us round. 
With rain, sweet rain, till the feverish ground 
Replete to fulness, shall laugh and sing 
“Thou hast saved from death, O mighty king!” 

O merciful Cloud-king, come in power, 

Thy touch will awaken each dying flower; 

All earth, now desert, scorched and drear, 
Would change to verdure if thou wert here. 

Thy coming were better than showers of gold. 
Than pearls whose value cannot be told; 

Then come from the ocean, the sky, the sea. 
Merciful king, we wait for thee! 


38 


Hearts of Gold 


THE MOON BRIDGE 

The moon like a big, round ball of flame 
Rose out of the silver bay. 

And built a bridge of golden beams, 

Where the fairies came to play. 

I saw them dancing in jeweled robes, 

On the wavelet's rhythmic flow, 

And I longed to stand on the magic bridge, 
In the moonlight's mystic glow. 

But, over the sky a veil of mist 
Thin, soft as a web of lace, 

Was drawn, then parted, then came again, 
With easy, coquettish grace; 

And the moon put on a sober mask, 

And frowned on the rippling wave, 

And the beautiful bridge went under the sea, 
Not a beam could the fairies save! 

I wondered if this would end their play, 

And if, as the bridge went down, 

They would lose their jewels so frail and fair, 
And their queen her diamond crown! 

But they glided away in merry mood, 

To their home in the rose-tree's bowers, 

And finished their dance on the dewy grass, 
In the “wee sma" morning hours. 


Hearts of Gold 


39 


THE RIVER 

The river runs to the sea, bearing upon its breast, 

The freightage humanity, with never a thought of rest; 
Crowds on the willing wave, O do you pity the stream? 
No, no, it was made for toil, and service is joy supreme! 

My heart is a sail-flecked sea, bearing away to God, 
The freightage of prayer and hope for those who 
“pass under the rod.” 

0 do you pity my heart as it bears its load along? 
No, it was made for service and love; each ripple 
is joyous song. 


40 


Hearts of Gold 


A HANDCLASP, A KISS, A GOODBY 
The Refrain of the Fisherman’s Wife 

A handclasp, a kiss, a goodby, 

A vanishing form at the door; 

All the azure has gone from the sky, 

Since the ship sailed away from the shore. 
Black, black are the depths of the sea. 
Mountain high are its billows of wrath. 
And mocking waves laugh in wild glee, 

As the ship treads its perilous path. 

I watch, Love, the storm-maddened tide! 

If heaven could hear I would call; 

Can bark such a tempest outride, 

A kiss, a goodby, is that all? 

Come back. Love, my heart is so lone. 

Ah, the cruel winds mocking reply, 

And echo my spirit’s deep moan— 

“A handclasp, a kiss, a goodby.” 

O wild waves, come bury my soul. 

Or else from this anguish set free! 

Ha, they laugh as in blackness they roll, 
Over coral beds under the s<ea! 

What! Is that a star I behold? 

Has the azure come back to the sky? 

What bliss if the morn should unfold, 

A handclasp, a kiss, not goodby! 



Ill 

MEMORIES AND MUSINGS 


4 



THE WORLD OF MEMORY 

Together we sit in the twilight 
And look far away to the west, 

Where gold-tinted clouds in the azure, 

Float dreamily on to their rest. 

The shadows fall round us unheeded, 
Together we sit, yet alone; 

You have gone to the world of your memory, 
Whose highways to me are unknown. 

Our hands may be clasped as we ponder, 
Your heart answer mine in each beat, 

And yet far apart do we journey, 

Neither knowing the other’s retreat. 

You roam, I have searched for you often, 

As moonlight crept over the mead; 

I’ve paused at the guideposts around me, 

But never a line could I read. 

Sometimes when a halo of glory, 

Encircles your radiant brow, 

I wonder what sweet recollections 
Led up from the “then” to the “now,” 

I wonder; am I in the picture 

Which brings heaven’s light to your face, 

And what in the world of your memory 
Holds securely the holiest place? 


43 











46 


Hearts of Gold 
FAIRY MOONLIGHT 


The breezes whisper low, 

First a laugh and then a rippling song; 

Queer shadows come and go, 

Grotesque silhouettes the winding way along; 
The world is changed so much, 

Since sunlight nature’s every fault laid bare; 

The moon has magic touch, 

Or is she charity, disguised, but ever fair? 

This old, worm-eaten fence— 

So frail that squirrels paused— 

With comical pretense, 

And chattered wisely of its numerous flaws— 

Is grace personified! 

Its broken panels charming curves, which woo— 
To care-free haunts aside. 

Filled by this witching moon with graces new. 

That field of ragged corn, 

Dismantled by the keen October blast, 

I pitied it this morn, 

But now its majesty enchains me fast! 

A bannered army, strong, 

In close, unbroken ranks, with tasseled crest, 

Fit guard through watches long, 

For citadel which holds the harvest feast; 

This cabin ’neath the oak, 

Unpainted, unadorned, with windows wry, 
Where sunlight’s fiercest stroke, 

Shows gaping seams to gaze of passerby— 

The truth at last is told! 

This cabin home is love’s abode, secure, 

And now the moon-witch bold, 

On outside walls portrays its glory pure! 


Hearts of Gold 


47 


Each log, unseemly, grim, 

A tablet is which holds the record dear 
In hieroglyphics dim. 

Of changeless mercies through each flying year. 
Once, twice, yea many times, 

Angels have stood within that peaceful door; 

At births and deaths sweet chimes, 

Have echoed round these walls from Eden’s shore. 

Illusions may delude! 

Perhaps on yonder hill no castle stands. 

Whose battlements intrude— 

Their ancient memories o’er these modern lands, 
And yet, I thank the moon, 

Whose deft, transforming touch, the village church, 
Hath changed to Abbey, grown— 

All o’er with ivy; ah, how oft I search— 

In fancy through its aisles. 

For all my buried past; its loves, its dreams, 

The never dying smiles, 

On mother’s face, now blent with heaven’s own 
beams. 

Yes, earth has changed so much, 

Since sunlight, nature’s every fault laid bare; 

The moon has magic touch, 

Or, is she charity disguised, but ever fair? 


44 


Hearts of Gold 


I have wondered if hopes undeveloped 
Are buried in deserts of sand. 

Where still you are searching for flowers, 
In an odorless, flowerless land? 

I have wondered what vistas are opened, 
When your spirit seems palsied with care; 
O, where is the world of your memory, 
And why may I not travel there? 


And mine? Do you ask; can I give you, 
The key to the mystical sign, 

Which stands at my memory’s crossings, 
And its labyrinths ever unwind? 

There are canyons I never have fathomed, 
There are heights which I never could scan; 
There are ruins of temples unfinished, 

And wrecks of a long life-time’s plan. 


There are regions where surges of passion. 
Have withered and blighted the soil. 

There are mischievous weeds I have planted, 
There are hours when I bitterly toil— 

To uproot them, but still they are growing, 
Ah, the pitiful, heart-rending thought, 

That so much memory’s building, 

By selfish endeavor was wrought. 


But, sometimes serenely, I’m resting, 
’Neath the shade of a flower-laden tree 
Whose fruitage is luscious and tender, 
And in bright, golden letters, I see: 
“You gave but a cup of cold water, 

To one of the least of mine.” 

I would that the world of my memory, 
Held more, precious Master, of thine! 


Hearts of Gold 


45 


Yes, together we sit in the twilight, 

Your heart answers mine in each beat; 
Yet alone in the world of our memories, 
Neither knoweth the other’s retreat. 

But love for each other has conquered,— 
All fear of the past, the unknown; 
Though our temple we builded together, 
We kneel at its altar alone. 


THE HEART O’ ME 

The heart o’ me went to the war, 

The soul o’ me battled hard; 

While the heart o’ me sailed afar. 

The soul o’ me stood on guard. 

The heart o’ me,—that’s my boy! 

He was fightin’ the world to save; 
And the soul o’ me thrills with joy, 
That the heart o’ me was so brave. 

The heart o’ me sleeps in peace, 

In a far away unmarked grave; 
But war and carnage still increase, 

In the world he died to save! 

Ah, soul o’ me, look above! 

In spite of your cruel pain; 

Must it be, O God of love, 

That the heart o’ me died in vain? 


48 


Hearts op Gold 


A FIELD OF WHEAT ON HARVEST DAY 

At morn thy golden billows rose and fell, 

Like sea-waves keeping time to mermaids' song. 

I almost fancied that upon each swell 
An anthem, angel-tuned, was borne along. 

It seemed, too, that the clouds which guard the gate 
Of sunrise land, were coral reefs, outlined 
Against thy father shore, where sea-gods wait, 

To launch their vessels on thy bosom kind. 

A sea of gold thou art this harvest day. 

Rich in the splendors of thy sun-kissed waves; 

I long to float upon thy billowy spray, 

And in the brightness of thy glory lave. 

In fancy’s bark I’d sail, and sail and idly, fondly dream, 
That thou art not a field of wheat, which sea of gold 
doth seem! 

II 

The sea of gold has vanished, moonlight dim, 

Reveals a chastened plain, like ocean’s bed 
Thick strewn with battered wrecks, where monsters 
grim, 

Twine wreaths of sea-weed for their tombless dead. 

O vanished sea, O chastened, cheerless plain, 

Thou now art part of that we call the Past! 

Strange region, whence there cometh not again, 

A sound or touch from all its shores so vast! 

The ruthless sickle, merciless, destroyed 
Illusions off thy grace, thy rhythmic swell; 

Rut, stricken field, can’st hear? Be not annoyed, 

The sharpened scythe but did its duty well! 

In fancy’s shallow bark no more my idle dreams I’ll 
greet, 

Glad thou wert not a sea of gold, but field of ripened 
wheat! 


Hearts of Gold 


49 


A CHALLENGE! 

You say you can sing a song, 

Which shall rival the nightingale’s trill; 

Its melody vibrating far, 

All murmurs of discord shall still; 

It will silence the thunder of war— 

’Twill hush all the heart-throbs of pain— 
’Twill lure back to earth the lost star, 

And seraphs shall covet the strain! 

You say you can pen a thought, 

Of limitless weight and power, 

A poem whose fervor shall melt 
The ice from the North Star’s bower; 

It shall win from the miser his gold; 

’Twill encircle the whole universe; 

Even angels shall bend low to hear 
The strain of your magical verse! 

You say you can paint a rose. 

With never a slug or a thorn, 

Whose delicate grace shall shame, 

The one in the garden born; 

Its fragrance shall drown every care. 

Its perfume grow richer with years, 

Its beauty shall woo the sad soul 
Forever from sorrow and tears! 

You say you can give back my heart— 

The heart which you won in a jest; 

You say I am stronger by far, 

Because of the pitiless test; 

You say the death-wounds will be healed, 

Nor even a scar shall remain, 

That the chords which are broken, some time 
Shall respond to love’s beckoning strain! 


50 


Hearts of Gold 


O if you will bring back my heart, 
Unseamed and enscarred as of old, 

I shall know you a song can inspire, 
Such as never on earth has been told! 
And my life such a poem shall be, 
Transfigured, seraphic, divine; 

The roses will bloom in my soul, 

More fragrant than angels entwine! 

But, I fling you a challenge of Doubt! 
I ask for the proof of your skill; 

Bring back my heart blithe as of old, 
Or choose you what weapons you will! 
On the field of these promises vain, 
You or I must lie down a grim corse! 
My weapon? Ah, blanch in its gleam, 
5 Tis the merciless blade of Remorse! 


Hearts of Gold 


51 


AUTUMN’S HOUSEKEEPING 

My very dear sister, Miss Summer, just started away 
last night, 

She needed a change of climate to set her system aright. 

We met at Meridian station, and though night’s 
lantern was dim, 

I could see she was tired and feeble, and 0, so terribly 
thin. 

I told her not to worry, for I am a housekeeper born; 

Scarce could I wait for daylight to bring me the busy 
morn, 

For my royal brother Winter,—I’m a princess, do 
you see? 

With his noble court is coming, some day to visit me! 

And I want to plan surprises in dining room and hall, 

And decorate my parlors for a grand reception ball. 

Well, there’s surely much needs doing, this rug of 
faded green. 

Must go at once to the dyer’s, and be retouched with 
a sheen 

Of color matching an emerald, with border of burnished 
gold, 

Woven from gleams of the golden-rod, in patterns 
clear and bold. 

Such floods of heat and sunlight, I wonder at Summer’s 
taste! 

I must cut the days off shorter, and stop this terrible 
waste; 

Must open a casket of raindrops, and cool this stifling 
air; 

My eyes are aching already, from the sun’s insistent 
glare. 


52 


Hearts of Gold 


That group of pines I’ll leave just so; they rather adorn 
the view; 

And now, with these rich colors, I think, the ceiling a 
trifle blue! 

So, I’ll draw a curtain of thinnest gauze, my Indian 
summer haze— 

From wall to wall, and the world will say, “How lovely 
are Autumn’s ways.” 

That forest is solid green, dear me, that winding stair 
of hills— 

That dado of hedge, the tasseled fringe which borders 
yon silvery rill— 

That grapevine frieze, can I ever bear, such a monotone 
of hue? 

I’ll go at once for my magic brush, and paint an artistic 
view. 

Over this woodbine arch I’ll throw, a beautiful, crimson 
veil; 

The maples closing that vista wide, shall be glinted with 
orange pale. 

That driveway of oak I’ll paint anew with bronze, and 
brown, and red, 

In russet I’ll wreathe those battlements, of hickory 
overhead. 

In royal purple and gilt deep-traced, this border of 
vines must gleam; 

That hall in mossy mosaics reset, shall rival a poet’s 
dream. 

These straw-colored mats must be replaced, with 
rugs as soft and fine, 

As the velvet pile on the meadow bank, was, in the 
dear spring time. 


Hearts of Gold 


53 


In my kitchen I’ll work with wondrous skill, a tempting 
feast to spread, 

This peach must have a rosier cheek, this apple a 
deeper red. 

My sunbeams must with magic touch, to the grapes 
rich juices bring; 

These melons flavor with skill and care, till they suit 
the taste of a king. 

There’s plenty of work as all may see, but I am blithe 
and strong! 

And know just how I want things done, and so, it 
will not be long 

Till all the world will awake from sleep, some bright 
October morn. 

And smiling say that I, yes I, am a housekeeper nobly 
born! 


54 


Hearts of Gold 


ODE TO THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

Thou art so beautiful, O, passing century! 

How strangely fair thy face, thy voice allures and 
charms, 

Thy symmetry and grace are matchless, we would 
hold thee in our arms, 

Because thou art so beautiful. 


Time hath been kind to thee, each year some added 
token lent, 

Blessings rich, royal, free, hath heaven unto thee sent. 

And thou hast not grown old, for radiant is thy smile; 

And full of hope the look of cheer, thou wearest all 
the while. 

Undimmed, thy lustrous eye, with eagle glance surveys, 

The path by which thou hast come to the parting of 
the ways. 

Yes, thou art beautiful, O passing century! 


And thou art powerful, O, mighty century! 

Past ages have been strong. Thy scepter farther sways; 

Could sleeping centuries wake, with what amaze, 

They would view thy broad domain; all power held in 
thy grasp; 

Thy grip of steel like welded chain, the vigor of thy 
clasp! 

The walls thou hast broken down, the slaves thy hand 
set free. 

The temples built, the shrines set up to priceless liberty. 

The years came blithely on and each an amulet brought. 

Which added to thy might until thy strength hath 
wrought 

Such lofty deeds, such miracles of power, 

That all men wonder what will come, in tomorrow’s 
opening hour! 


Hearts of Gold 


55 


And now thou standest here, the mightiest force of 
time, 

A world-king none can reach on rugged heights sublime- 
Like Moses viewing far the fruitful, promised land, 
Thy strength abated not, full-nerved thy giant hand. 
And is it hard for thee, who never sheathed thy sword, 
To know that thou must fall, at the utterance of a word? 
If so, thou hidest well the bitterness and pain, 

For a grim smile wreathes thy brow, and thou dost 
well maintain— 

Thy majesty and poise, no shrinking from thy doom 
Calm, fearless, regal, in thy might, thou comest to the 
tomb! 

Yes, thou art powerful, O mighty century! 


Thou art so wonderful, O, swift-winged century! 

Words fail, mind cannot grasp the marvels of thy skill; 

Thou art the appointed instrument, God used to work 
his will. 

Prophets looked down time’s page, and saw thee coming 
on— 

The chosen herald of good cheer, the harbinger of dawn. 

In thee they saw the gracious word of prophecy ful¬ 
filled— 

That knowledge should run to and fro, and human 
human hands be skilled— 

In commerce, craft, invention, trade; when men at 
learning’s fount— 

Should deeply drink, then scale aloft Ambition’s highest 
mount! 

O, thou hast sought out mysteries, hidden from angel’s 
view. 

Bridged trackless space, dissected stars, made wondrous 
dreams come true. 

Yes, thou art wonderful, O passing century! 


56 


Hearts of Gold 


Yes, thou art wondrous, powerful, and strangely, 
sweetly fair! 

Will he who comes to take thy crown, in all, with 
thee compare? 

And is it hard for thee to lay thy power aside? 

Or dost thou hear the sweet “Well done” ring out 
across the tide? 

But list! A still, small voice, unheard, save by thy 
strong, brave heart, 

Speaks the inevitable word; thou must from time depart! 

A soft mist veils thy form, a cloud receives from sight; 

Up to the final judgment bar, thou art borne this 
holy night. 

The promised land of rest, thou’lt view from Pisgah’s 
brow; 

The future God will show to thee, He waits thy coming 
now. 

And, somewhere ’neath his throne, in vales no foot 
hath trod, 

The midnight stroke will summon thee, to be alone— 
with God. 

And He shall bury thee; no man can know the place. 

Until our Lord’s eternity, again reveals thy face. 

Midnight, Dec. 31, 1899. 


Hearts of Gold 


57 


THE VANISHED SONG 

Could I have heard it in a dream? 

If so the dream-world where I roved, 

Was placed the gates of heaven between, 

With all earth’s discord far removed. 

Its rhythm, like a whirr of angels’ wings, 
Opened the gates of Paradise; 

But oft, amid life’s tangled strings, 

Its melody was crushed by sighs! 

That vanished song! I’ve searched the heights 
And depths of earth, its notes to find; 

No prisoned voice in sea-shell white— 

No orchestra of golden chimes;— 

No lover’s flute, no martial peal, 

No tuneful zephyr whispering low, 

No praiseful chant, though pure and sweet, 

Is like that song of long ago. 

It breathed no minor chord of pain; 

No broken trills of want or care; 

An infant’s laugh was its refrain; 

Ah, did I catch its echo there? 

Its words were jubilant and strong, 

They held no heritage of tears; 

It had no past, but swept along, 

Touching the key of coming years. 

I’ve bowed the knee at wisdom’s shrine, 

I’ve crossed the palm of sorceress bold, 
Pleading for that lost song of mine, 

’Tis dead, they say, and I am—old! 


58 


Hearts of Gold 


O, naught can bring to earth again, 

That song, not e’en the God of truth, 
Life’s surging sea has drowned its strain, 
That vanished song was guileless youth! 

But joy! as earthly visions fade, 

And heaven my own horizon meets; 

I hear its perfect measures played— 
Eternal youth—on golden streets! 


LOVE IS—? 

Intangible, potent, bewitching, supreme; 

A poem, a picture, a seraph, a dream; 
Ineffaceable, faultless, fathomless true; 

A treasure, a master, a miracle new. 

Ineffable, heavenly, timorous, bold, 

A charmer, a tyrant, a sorceress old; 
Unexplainable, wonderful, faint-hearted, brave 
Hope’s brightest fruition; hopeless a grave! 


Hearts of Gold 


59 


FOR A FRIEND’S CALENDAR 

The clock of the year struck noon, my dear, 
When faded the days of June; 

But the hours still live, and their memories give, 
A rich and a rare perfume. 

Some hopes go astray, some songs pass away; 
But the "worth while” never can end; 

"Lang Syne” may fail, but for aye must prevail 
The love of a friend for a friend. 

When the clock of our year strikes sunset, dear, 
The sky will be tinted with gold, 

And together we’ll wait at life’s closing gate, 
While the glories of heaven unfold! 


FOR THE NEW YEAR 

I resolve: 

To speak not in wrath, to stand undismayed; 

To lose my unfaith, to walk unafraid; 

To learn life’s imprint, to walk with Hope’s thrill; 

To love without stint, to give God my will. 

II 

I’ll work for the love of my task, will seek that another 
may find; 

A helpful spirit is all I ask, and a joyous, contented 
mind. 

If I only may add just a mite to the joy of the new-born 
year, 

My life will reflect the pure light, of mercy, and love, 
and good cheer. 


60 


Hearts of Gold 


IF I? 

If I could put on canvas rare, one sunset, red and gold. 
An angel would be glad to share, the skill my brush 
would hold. 

If I could imitate the trill, the lark sings o’er and o’er. 
My very name would send a thrill, through earth, 
from shore to shore! 

If I could copy in my life, heaven’s holy, grand ideal. 
Earth’s honors would be emptiness! Faith, love, joy, 
hope be real! 


Hearts of Gold 


61 


A PRINCE IS BORN! 

Abraham Lincoln, Feb. 12, 1809 

“A Prince is born,” the cry rang forth one night, 
’Midst angels watching o’er a cabin lowly; 

“A prince is born, bring gems and garments white, 
Ring golden chimes and burn ye, incense holy.” 
Mortals heard not, but guardian spirits came, 
Unseen, unheard to offer ministration, 

And whispered softly, “Great must be his name, 
This prince, the destined idol of a nation.” 

Then Heaven spake in tenderest tone, 

Like the swell of murmuring river, 

Calling from the deep unknown 
Where the stars of promise quiver, 

“Weave ye, weave for this Prince Royal 
Robes of purple, for his station 
Shall be great, hearts shall beat loyal, 

To his name in every nation. 

“But, he must be a man of sorrow, 

Pensive grief must mark his brow, 

Hopes die daily, each tomorrow 
Laugh to scorn its promised vow. 

World renowned in song and story, 

In the hearts of men to reign, 

He must reach the highest glory, 

Through deepest vales of anguished pain. 

“He must bear a crushing burden, 

Lift to hope a fallen race, 

To be misunderstood his guerdon; 

Thorns of grief must pierce his face. 

Then call him Prince of Disappointment, 

For he shall feel its bitterest pain, 

And even Power with its anointment, 

Shall find that influence in its train.” 


62 


Hearts of Gold 


“A Prince is born,” the cry rang out one night, 

’Midst angels watching o’er a cabin lowly; 

“A Prince is born, bring gems and garments white, 
Ring golden chimes, and burn ye, incense holy.” 

But the mother in the cabin wept 
Softly, while her baby slept; 

She saw no guardian host, no helping hand, 

To lead her boy to heights where heroes stand, 

She knew it not, nor ever, ever guessed. 

That God had placed upon her baby’s breast 
A royal seal, the sign of knighthood given, 

By hands invisible stretched down from highest 
heaven! 

She saw no angel band, no garments white. 

But lo, a beam of heaven’s transcendent light 
Burst forth effulgent; on her teardrops shone, 

And formed a bow of promise around God’s wondrous 
throne! 

And she smiled and clasped the child-prince, closer to 
her tear-stained face, 

While the glory of God’s presence filled the cabin’s 
lowly space. 


Hearts of Gold 


63 


THE JOURNEY OF FAITH 
I will not turn aside, 

Though Mount Moriah’s rugged heights appear, 
Though dangers close betide, 

And though O God, thy anger draweth near. 

The valley I will cross, 

The scorching desert, barren, thorny, wide! 

How can I suffer loss, 

Dear Father, if I in thy love abide? 

Lord, Lord, here is the wood, 

And every fagot’s wet with flowing tears; 

I brought the best I could, 

I’d burnish all with gold, if that would hush my fears. 

The foothills all are passed; 

My son is fairer to me now than e’er before, 

I clasp him close and fast; 

O God, thy face is hid, yet, I will trust thee more. 

The path is growing dim; 

Methinks no soul e’er passed this lonely way, 

But still I look to Him, 

Whose promise shall abide to endless day. 

Father, I brought the knife; 

How rough, how steep the path hath sudden grown! 
Canst thou not take my life, 

And to the vale, in peace, transport my son? 

How beautiful for him— 

While love and youth with crowns of promise, wait, 

Is life—full to the brim— 

Of present good, and future blessings great! 


64 


Hearts of Gold 


But no, I’ll tarry not; 

Haste, haste, we travel far today, my son, 

There is a holy spot—, 

Up yonder, where the fight of faith must soon be won— 

Or lost. No, no faint heart, 

Hush all thy cries, God will uphold and bless; 

’T were better far to part, 

With all earth holds, than his dear law transgress. 
Now we are here, O Lord; 

With trembling hand, and slow, the altar’s made; 

With every twig of wood, 

A prayer of hope is close beside it laid. 

I thought God would be here, 

To stop me e’er with thongs I bound my son! 

There comes no word of cheer; 

O Holy One, I’ll pause not, till the deed is done. 

I raise the knife aloft, 

While it descends, my heart shall heavenward rise, 

In breathings hushed and soft, 

That God will open to my boy, His paradise! 

And may I too, soon go, 

To Thee, O power divine, who made me for thy use, 
Where I may fully know, 

That it was best,—the path thy will didst choose! 

But hark! I faint with joy! 

A voice says, “stay thy hand, thy Lord— 

Hath given thee back thy boy, 

Because thou hast obeyed his sovereign word!” 


Hearts op Gold 


65 


THE AUTUMN ANGEL 

Through all the bright September days I watched 
The changing lights on meadow, vale and hill; 

For, in the haunts of nature I beheld 
A mystery unfathomed, work its sovereign will. 

At noon the trees were crowned with burnished gold, 
Which yestermorn in peasant garb were dressed! 
Mysterious is the orchard’s fruitage rare, 

The scarlet sumach on the hill’s broad crest. 

October came, and still I waiting, watched— 

The wondrous change, for lo, the forest cast 
To earth her golden crown; the meadow slept 
Deep buried neath the dead leaves of the past. 

My soul cried out, “Why is it ever so, 

This glory far surpassing earth-born art; 

Nature transfigured just as doom appears, 

To lay her low with his unerring dart?” 

Ah, ’t is not death, but only life’s beginning, 

The finished plan is immortality. 

The Autumn angel’s wrath is only seeming. 

She guards life’s germ for Spring’s eternity! 


66 


Hearts of Gold 


IT’S ALL ON ACCOUNT OF THE SUNSHINE 

It’s all on account of the sunshine; 

The glory on land and on sea, 

The hue of the flowers, in summery bowers, 

The green and the gold on the tree. 

It’s all on account of the sunshine, 

The sparkle on river and rill, 

The rainbow’s own glory, which tells the sweet story, 
Of heavenly grace and goodwill. 

It’s all on account of the sunshine, 

The beauty of mountain and plain, 

The color tones blending, in measures unending, 
While the meadow grass breathes a refrain. 

O, it’s all on account of the sunshine— 

The sunshine of love and good cheer, 

That the world moves along, with whistle and song, 
And friendship is lasting and dear! 

O, it’s all on account of the sunshine, 

Beaming from hearts rich in grace, 

That lives are aglow, with love’s overflow, 

Revealed in a sweet, smiling face! 


Hearts op Gold 


67 


EARTH AND HEAVEN 

The lover may be a dreamer. 

But love is not a dream; 

The artist, perchance, a schemer, 

But art is not a scheme; 

Though genius wander forever, 

There are myriad paths untrod; 

The thinker may be an agnostic, 

Yet thought was born with God. 

The worshiper may be faulty, 

But worship is faultless love; 

The faithful oft despairing, 

Yet faith the Heavens can move; 

The suppliant may be worthless. 

Yet his prayer God’s ear will reach; 

Earth’s chimes may clash discordant, 

But music is Heaven’s speech. 

Of earth—the real is earthy. 

The lover, the artist, the dream. 

The thinker, the clanging discord, 

The genius, the treacherous scheme; 

But love and faith and worship 
Are ideals—God’s own thought, 

And Heaven the grand reality 
Which His ideal has wrought. 

(Published in Ladies' Home Journal .) 


68 


Hearts of Gold 


WHAT LIFE HAS A MORROW? 

Do your best today, what life has a morrow? 

Strew roses by the way, soothe pain and sorrow; 
Render service freely, leave self behind, 

Lives are transfigured by an unselfish mind. 

Wear your pearls today, they may fade e’er tomorrow. 
Pearls of sweet content, let others borrow 
Radiance from the gleam of your Christian graces, 

’T is giving of one’s self that transfigures faces. 

Sing your song today, what life has a morrow? 

Let it float away, soothing some sorrow; 

Sing it loud and clear, earth has many places, 

Where music’s power may transfigure faces. 

Scatter smiles today, time knows no tomorrow, 

Smiles wither soon if prisoned too narrow; 

Grudge not, but strew them in high and lowly places. 
Smiles bring the sunshine which transfigures faces. 

Live the Christ life today; what life has a morrow? 

His call to work obey; from his storehouse borrow 
Grace for daily needs, His love all fear displaces, 

It is living as He lived, that transfigures faces! 


Hearts of Gold 


69 


SECOND CHILDHOOD 

Simply the old man turned and faced the east, 

Said goodby to the phantom ships, all golden fleeced. 

Which sailed the western sky; ah, he had traveled far! 

Since youth’s bright morn these speeding ships had 
been his guiding star. 

He smiles and says, “I’ve had a charming dream, 

In which wealth, hope and pleasure, made up life’s 
rippling stream; 

Love crowned the years, and, yet, somehow today, I 
seem, 

To realize that all has been a curious, pleasant dream. 

For I am just a little boy, and mother’ll wait and wait. 

She cannot rest or sleep if I am out too late; 

I’m tired, but I must kiss her first, and climb the attic 
stairs, 

And kneel beside my trundle bed, and not forget my 
prayers. 

I dream that I was naughty, and went so far astray. 

That on the great deep I was lost and could not find my 
way, 

That I forgot my home, my God, while striving to get 
hold, 

Of those same phantom ships whose decks were strewn 
with gold. 

But thank kind heaven’t was a dream, I’m going home 
tonight! 

Yes, mother’s there, she don’t forget, the candle’s 
all alight; 

I knew she’d wait, she always does, I’m sleepy, she’ll 
not scold. 

Although she told me not to go, she said the world 
was cold. 


70 


Hearts of Gold 


Yes, I’m a little boy; why, here’s a murky stream, 

I never saw one just like this in all my vivid dream; 

I’m scared, but there’s a boatman, he’ll row me o’er 
the tide. 

For I remember—home, yes home is on the other side. 

And mother’s there, she always waits to kiss her boy 
goodnight; 

I’m coming, O, it’s growing dark, mother, hold up the 
light! 


Hearts of Gold 


Tl 


SWING LOW, SWING HIGH! 

Swing low, my baby, swing low, 

Mother’s afraid you’ll fall; 

Swing low, swing low, swing low, 

Or, love, do not swing at all. 

The man in the moon is beck’ning you, 

The shy little stars all wink at you, 

But baby, don’t try to reach so far; 

If mother could she would give you a star, 
Yes mother would give the world to you, 

The stars and the moon, and the sky so blue. 
But now while the breezes softly blow, 

Swing low, swing low, swing low. 

Swing high, my darling, swing high; 

You have grown so straight and tall, 

Swing high, swing high, swing high, 

Or, love, do not swing at all. 

Like a bird I’d have you fly and fly, 

Sailing and sailing across the sky: 

The man in the moon is beck’ning you, 

The shy little stars reach out to you, 

Mother can’t give you the stars or the sky; 
You must win them boy, by swinging high; 
And while you are sailing away so far. 
Steering straight for a golden star, 

Mother will sit by the grape-vine swing, 

And bravely, tenderly hope and sing, 

While you upward rise to the vaulted sky, 
Swing high, swing high, swing high! 


Hearts of Gold 


FOR A FRIEND’S ALBUM 

The pearl in its sea-cradle sleeps, 
The edelweiss kisses the sky, 

My love is deep as the one is deep, 
And high as the one is high. 


WHO TOLD THE FAIRIES? 

Saint Valentine gave me a message; 

He said that the fairies all knew— 

I was going to send you a love-note, 

How could they have guessed it, could you? 
For I’d never have thought that any one knew, 
How often, how fondly I’m thinking of you! 


Hearts of Gold 


73 


THE DEPARTED YEAR 

I loved him well, when at the rosy morn he came, 
And, smiling, gave to me a casket full of gems 
And said 4 ‘The gods have carved within each stone thy 
name, 

To thine oft uttered prayer they speak a fond amen.” 
Hope, faith and love the jewels were, with pearls inlaid. 
The virtues which for long my heart had sought and 
prayed! 

Ah, then I loved him well, but knew not he had given 
All of heaven that’s found on earth, all of the earth 
that’s heaven! 

I loved him more, when, from the heights at torrid noon 
Down on the valleys full of struggling life we gazed; 
Choice caskets given to eager hands were broken soon. 
And restless mobs fought fiercely, till, with senses 
dazed. 

Some yielded, others gathered up the scattered gems, 
Gold, honor, fame, the smile of kings, the praise of men. 
I wondered why to these such tawdry gifts he brought. 
He said, “I gave to each the answer to his thought.” 

I loved him most, when, at the midnight stroke 
He led me to the mystic shore where rolls the tide. 
Which bore him to eternity, and thus he spoke, 

“The casket thou may’st keep, its gems for aye abide; 
Thy thought, thy prayer, thy trust as shown to me 
I bear to God, they now are part of His eternity.” 
“Alas,” I cried, “their record is so vain, so weak, 

I tremble at the word the Infinite must speak.” 

“Not so, for God in his supreme divinity 
Counts what you sought through hope, faith, love, to 
be.” 

I loved him most, for then I knew to me he had given 
All of heaven that’s found on earth, all of the earth 
that’s heaven! 


74 


Hearts of Gold 


THE EARTH ANGELS 

They carried her down to the river, 

Those Earth Angels, Age and Pain; 

They spread her a couch of suffering, 

In sound of Death’s low refrain; 

They placed her where the dark billows 
Came near when the tide flowed high, 

And they patiently watched beside her, 
While the days and months passed by. 

Yes, they waited long in the shadows, 

These Earth Angels, Age and Pain, 

While she learned this wonderful lesson, 

That Death is supremest gain; 

They took the gold from the sunshine. 

The fragrance from Earth’s fair flowers; 

They buried Life’s anxious longings 
In deepest cypress bowers. 

They held up reality’s mirror, 

These Earth Angels, Age and Pain, 

And by Truth’s clear light reflected, 

The problems of loss and gain. 

That mirror revealed the future, 

Dissolved the mists of the past, 

Which oft had clouded her vision, 

W r hen the years hurried by so fast. 

To the “gates ajar” they led her. 

These Earth Angels, Age and Pain, 

They watched till she caught the echo, 

Of the heavenly harper’s strain; 

They folded their wings about her. 

When the Boatman crossed the tide. 

But they whispered “goodbye” at the portal, 
On the golden “other side.” 


Hearts of Gold 


75 


God chose these ministering spirits, 
These Earth Angels, Age and Pain, 
To teach her his wonderful lessons 
Along Life’s vanishing plain; 

But beyond the gates celestial 
These Earth Angels could not go; 
She has youth eternal up yonder, 
And nevermore pain shall know! 


76 


Hearts of Gold 


AMERICA 

O land of Hope’s fulfillment, in all the ages past, 

Men looked for thy appearing, God kept thee for the 
last. 

That thou might’st be the crowning, the glory and the 
pride, 

Of all His vast creation, where Hope shall e’er abide. 

O land of Faith’s enlargement, all peoples on thy shore, 

Their every aspiration, in confidence outpour; 

And thou wilt give redemption, from fetters that 
enslave: 

O, land of Faith’s enlargement, thy faith the world 
must save. 

O land of Love’s enchantment, where Liberty fulfills. 

The law that men are brothers—God’s word that law 
instills, 

And Hope and Faith united, within thy borders stand. 

And wait for Love’s enchantment, to perfect Thee, 
fair land. 


Hearts of Gold 


77 


PEACE 

Sabers sheathed, swords in scabbards hidden; 

Nations to man-made feast of reason bidden; 

Peoples of earth in solemn conclave shriven 
Searching for Peace. 

A restless world, with pulse at fever heat, 

Defying law, blood-stained, facing defeat, 

Walled in by fear of treacherous deceit 
Searching for Peace. 

O, heaven-born peace, is thy earth mission ended? 
Have we so gravely, bitterly offended, 

That hopeless, helpless, always undefended 
We search for Peace? 

Where is thy faith, 0 world by terror driven? 
Heaven’s holiest love was for thy ranson given! 
Through love earth yet shall reach the blessed haven 
Of perfect Peace! 

In Christ, the brotherhood which Love creates, 

Shall lift the earth to heaven’s open gates, 

Where God will give what all the world awaits 
A lasting Peace! 


78 


Hearts of Gold 


WHERE HEAVEN BEGINS! 

Not all of heaven lies in the dim unknown; 

Its glory radiates far from God’s effulgent throne: 
Earth’s hilltops glow, celestial splendor falls, 

From open windows in the jasper walls: 

Father, I thank thee that a breath of prayer, 

May lift me to the heights, and heaven is there! 

Not all who live heaven’s life this holy hour, 

Are unseen spirits safe in Eden’s power; 

Earth’s ministering angels wait in many a lowly place; 
In sweet, unselfish deeds their footsteps oft we trod: 
Father, I thank thee, heaven’s life begins. 

Here in the heart Christ’s blood cleansed from sin. 

Unfading are the gleams through vistas stretching 
wide— 

Of Moses and Elias, and Christ the glorified! 

About us walk the saints in glistening garments dressed. 
The fashion of their countenance all luminous and blest! 
Father, I understand! my daily life may be, 
Transfigured on the mountain top of prayer, with thee! 

Not all of earth shall rob me, of heaven’s communion 
sweet; 

Not all of heaven without it, were for one hour com¬ 
plete, 

Its power transfigures life, transforms the heart. 

And earth is heaven, and heaven earth’s glorious part! 
Father, I thank thee heaven is here, altho from sight 
concealed. 

Yet, ever by thy Spirit to thy chosen ones revealed. 


Hearts of Gold 


79 


HEAVEN, HOME AND MOTHER 

Where are you mother? I’ve hunted all over, 

In parlor and closet, and stairway, and hall; 

I’ve whistled and called but the house is all empty, 
And I want to tell you, we beat ’em at ball! 

Ah, there in the gateway she’s eagerly watching, 
Watching and waiting to welcome me home! 
Mother, come kiss me, I’m tired and sleepy, 
Goodnight, what a blessing is mother and home! 

Where are you mother? I’ve roamed the world over, 
Searching for wealth and the pleasures of fame; 

Have found what I sought for, but vain are earth’s 
honors, 

I long for your smile, and the old home again. 

Ah, there in the gateway she’s eagerly watching, 
Watching and waiting to welcome me home! 
Mother, come kiss me, I’m tired and sleepy. 
Goodnight, what a blessing is mother and home! 

Mother, where are you, I’m old and aweary; 

Heaven must be near, but a cloud hides the shore; 

Ah, angels are lifting the curtain, what glory! 

Home, heaven and mother, to part never more! 

For there in the gateway she’s eagerly watching, 
Watching and waiting to welcome me home! 
Mother, come kiss me, I’m tired and sleepy, 
Goodnight, what a blessing is mother and home! 


80 


Hearts of Gold 


GOD KNOWS 

God knows me at my best, He knows my thought— 
Though trivial oft and vain, 

Circling so near to earth for years hath sought, 

To rise above the plain 

Of worldly reasoning, yea, sought to gain the height. 
Where all is measured by the rule of right. 

God knows me at my best, He knows my prayer, 

Is but a beggar’s plea, 

Alas, how often its petitions are 
Scarce less than mockery! 

And yet He hears my sobbing undertone, 

When e’er I strive to say, “Thy will be done.” 

God knows me at my best. He knows my heart, 

Is fettered by earth’s cares; 

He knows when I would follow wisdom’s part, 

Sin leads me unawares. 

He knows though oft my duty lies undone, 

I rest my hopes alone upon His Son! 

God knows me at my best. My best is Faith! 

My thoughts, my heart, my prayer, 

If faithful are sufficient, He hath said, 

Who doth my burdens bear. 

Then in sweet confidence upon this hope I rest, 

God knows me always, ever, at my best! 












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